Fairies and Stars
by Preety bird
Summary: Written in the 1950's Vienna,Italy when Spike and Dru are just cruising about in the night life and enjoying what unlife has to offer..


This was written for a Ficathon Challenge and the pairing requested was Spike and Dru in Vienna during the 1950's. Hope you guys like it.. :)

**Fairies and Stars**

The pavements sparkled like pepper-strewn stars and the gas lamps illuminated the antique shop windows with light, circular shadows. A night in Vienna; a night like no other for the two strolling merrily towards the gay, buzzing house.   
  
Dru looked like a dark angel in a long, flimsy black crepe dress and Spike looked all the sharper in a black suit and crooked fedora. They made a heavenly pair, to say the least.  
  
With a great burst of moonlight guiding their way, they entered the abode with a faint welcome muttered by one of the lesser servants standing beside the entrance and soon mingled with eddies of glimmering and fanciful people already there.   
  
The thick line of cars never ceased dumping passengers in front of the spectacle-like house and the aroma of alcohol oozed in heavy wafts towards the neighboring streets.   
  
People came and went like darting fireflies amongst the music and the champagne and the stars. Vienna was no place for the boring and the bland parties and festivities were always in motion at every corner street.  
  
And tonight, Spike decided to have some extra fun while he was still residing in a place hinting with promises of amore and sex. The love portion he didn't much care for, of course, but he did feel strongly for the latter half.   
  
He took Dru's fragile hand in his and spun her towards the tightly packed dance floor, where they gently swayed as the orchestra played bits and pieces of songs.   
  
"Mi amore," Spike whispered huskily into Dru's delicate ear and Dru giggled as she glided towards one of the glass sculptures adorning the appetizer tables.   
  
She fixed her playful gaze at the intricately sculptured form of a maiden holding a water jug, perhaps, studying it with utmost curiosity a lunatic finds even the most ridiculous things extraordinary and tapped Spike lightly on the shoulder to halt his swaying.   
  
"She's so pretty, isn't she, my sweet?" she asked as she leant forward and licked a slow, tender path down the maiden's cheek.   
  
Spike frowned at her actions and held her tighter to him as he noticed another man gazing at her. Dru attracted the attention of even the most heartless of brutes; she was very deceptive in her idle-mindedness.   
  
"Yeah, she's a princess. What does she taste like?"  
  
Dru's eyes glazed lightly over before she answered giving the question serious thought. "She tastes of honey and wine. She tastes of stars," she finally answered, looking back at him with a little smile adorning her visage as if implying that Spike was supposed to know things such as this by now.   
  
Spike, for his part, was nowhere near astonished by her answer. He smiled sweetly and gave her a peck on the cheek. He oftentimes found her having more animated conversations with the stars and the moon than ever with him.  
  
Soddin' stars.  
  
He nudged her gently, wanting to go back to their dancing, but her attention had now fixed itself on other important matters. A grotesque portrait of a balding man of sixty hung on the far wall by the balcony door. Spike snorted as she extracted herself from his embrace and walked over towards the ghastly painting; no doubt admiring the large bald patch, Spike thought sympathetically.  
  
"Ohhh, look at him, Spoike." She traced one of her ghost-white fingers over the hard surface of the portrait.   
  
"Now, don't tell me that you think he's pretty as well. That's one ugly bugger, luv." Spike shook his head and pointed to the triple chins that the image seemed to display.   
  
"Nothin' pretty there." He let his hand fall and retrieved her hand, which was still resting on the portrait; above the bald patch, no less.   
  
After another minute of watching Dru stare hypnotically at the painting, he made to leave by pulling her towards him.  
  
"Come on, pet. We've given this bloke enough analyzation as is let's find somethin' _better_ to do," Spike tried in his most firmest tone, which still wasn't very demanding.   
  
Dru didn't budge, however; she merely traced her fingers over the rigid surface again.  
  
Despite his rash and impulsive nature, Spike settled for crossing his arms indignantly across his chest and pouting. He was never above pouting; it was his trademark, after all. The head tilt only came into play when he was feeling particularly snarky and destructive.   
  
He tried to understand her, of course, but sometimes she surpassed anything that even he despite living with her for many decades could handle.   
  
The vividness and surreal quality of her imagination constantly was at war with the unreality of reality; a promise that the weight of the world was supported securely on a fairy's wing.   
  
He fought the urge to drag her away, but just then Dru started talking again with a mellow-like effect laced with the girly tone of her voice.   
  
"He's lost...little mouse has lost his way."  
  
A beat later.  
  
"The children won't come out to play." The soft lull of her voice eased Spike a tad.  
  
"Of course he's lost. A bloody, big hunkerin' house like this and I'd be lost too." Spike took a quick glance at the persons around him and noted that no one was paying the least attention to them. Not that he minded having conversations with her dealing with the likes of stars and sheep; it was just safer not to do it in front of a crowd.  
  
The path her finger was tracing stopped just before it reached one of the eyes eyes of steely blue.  
  
Spike looked simultaneously alarmed and amused. She was paying more attention to this harsh portrait of a man than she did to the little wee maiden. That was strange.  
  
"Why are you so lost, sir? I can help you find your way," she continued nonchalantly.  
  
Maybe she was having one of her vision things, Spike thought briefly. She was just getting madder and more disheveled as the years slowly progressed. Or maybe she was just seeing too much into reality and perhaps was more sane than he, in fact. Spike knew that almost without knowing he knew it.   
  
Moments like these bothered Spike immensely. He had gotten used to feeling old; feeling like a fledge again knowing he could feel like a fledge again was a terrible disorienting shock.  
  
Spike silently placed his hands on her tiny waist and soothed himself by nuzzling her neck and letting the smell of ginger spice wash over him like a comforting blanket, unaware that Dru had finally closed her eyes and was purring barely audible as she nuzzled her nose against his cheek.   
  
"You wanna go outside and take a look at the stars, pet?"  
  
She turned around in his arms and placed a shy kiss upon his lips. "Yes... Miss. Edith was warning me just last night of strange things that are to happen. Nasty things."  
  
Just like that, her temporary adoration of the portrait had vanished, similarly to her affair with the glass sculpture. The thoughts that went through her head were ephemeral. Like a small flashbulb afterimage tattooed on her retina but only for a moment before she floundered over something else, something more exciting. That was her reality. No matter how cruel or nasty it sometimes was.   
  
The midnight air was crisp and cold, and the roses burned a fierce color of blood beneath the wandering moon.   
  
They walked through the gardens with Spike's hand placed upon her waist, as Dru softly spoke of fairies and angels and how they all, in some way or another, connected to the stars.

I love SPike and Dru together. They make such an interesting pairing to write. Tell me how you thought I did..

Love Preety :)


End file.
